Diary of a Dreamer
- Lecturas 1,135
- Votos 212
- Partes 101
They say you're a dreamer
Cause your eyes are sewn shut
And you've got your head in the clouds
They say you're like sleeping beauty
Never gonna wake up until your knight comes to kiss you
But it's been ages and still no sign of that white horse and shining armour
They say you're gonna sleep your life away
Too busy dreaming up fantasy realms instead of living in reality with everyone else
But I say to hell with them
Cause yeah you are a dreamer
With an imagination so wild not even Christopher Columbus can map you out
You have a universe inside your mind, and every day you're creating something new
Your thoughts spill out of you like an active volcano and you use the lava to paint out your ideas
You are not what everyone says you are
You don't have your eyes sewn shut
Or your head stuck in the clouds
Your eyes are wide open
And your head is far above the clouds
You aren't waiting for a knight to come wake you
Because you are the knight and you don't need waking up
Why?
Cause you're a dreamer
And that means someday you're gonna make those dreams a reality
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dreamer
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Thoughts of a Juvenile
Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.Concluida
Forever His
It was now nighttime and I returned to my room which was very dark. The curtains were closed, strange I'm sure it was open this morning... Whatever. I put my bag down and went straight into the shower. I didn't spend a long time inside cause I was very tired and wanted to sleep. It was an exhausting day, I searched for some work, but like usual I failed... I sighted. I went out of the bathroom with only a towel around my waist and started to sit down when someone pushed me into the floor. Shit! Who was that? What did he want? I was very afraid and I had a lot of question passing my mind in this few seconds but didn't want to submit to my aggressor. I groaned and tried to get myself up, but he... Yeah, he was too strong and big to be she... Put his knee on my back and started to tie my hands together with some rope. Was he trying to kidnap or tie me? I froze in fear for a few seconds and stopped moving. I suppose he let his guard down since I stopped struggling, so I took this chance and flipped us over. It was now my turn to be on top and somehow succeeded to untie myself. I was lucky he didn't have time to fully tie me yet, so it was kind of easy. It was dark, so I couldn't see his face, but I still put my hands around his throat and started to strangle him a bit. 'W-Who are you and w-what do y-you want?' I asked trying to hide my fear that I miserably failed. '...' He still didn't respond, I was starting to loose control on myself. His silence was killing me and I started to shake in fear. Then he spoke and caught all my attention: 'You're so cute when you're afraid pet.' I froze, I recognized this voice and my fear turned to be true. All the struggling to escape, to disappear, to forget about him now came back in an instant. I was now trembling constantly losing all control of my body, my hand lets go of the man throat and all I could do was shakily say: 'Dimitri...' THIS IS A BOYXBOY STORY, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!!!Concluida
To Be Broken
What does it mean to be broken? (I wrote this poem myself) ______________________________ Why be sad? When no one knows how bad You feel your Pain makes you sore. Why be mad? When no one can tell How hard you fell How it hurts MORE than a tad. Why be happy? Be like all those sappy People pretending to be What they want you to see. Why be frightened? Senses heightened Screaming, As sick people are beaming. Why be tired? When no one knows How your wired How you grow. Why be honest? When all known is a broken promise When no one believes you Even if what you say is true. Why hurt? When no one feels your pain When no one's ever alert When you never feel sane. Why pretend? When you know in the end No one will be there Because no one cares. Why care? When no one cares enough for you To know what your going through They think your heart is unfair. Why try? When no one sees that you do They just pry Thinking they know more than you. Why speak? When no one will ever hear They'll say you're a freak They don't see a single tear. Why do anything at all? It's not like anyone will see If you fall If you scream. ____________________________________ "Just admit it Winter. After the whole accident....your broken." "No...No that's where your wrong. I'm not broken. Because to be broken, you had to have been whole in the first place."Concluida
paracosm-delusional nightmares
{poetry : completed} "𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞." in a tiny corner of the world, but in the vast corner of my imagination, this is my paracosmic delusion, something that i've created out of indignant, dejected and euphoric emotions. each word in this book constitutes my delusional nightmares, the ones that i know aren't really there yet i write about them anyway. this is me, my barest and deepest feelings, and my monstrous thoughts. ✦✦✦ [all rights reserved | ©2021 ] [ cover designed by me ] [ peace \/ ]Concluida
The Gift Of Love
"I never thought that it would end up like that.. We were one soul.. We were in love.. And now what.. We are just an old story in each others memory.. Everyone went in another way.. Another world we can't get each other in. Your thoughts differ than mine.. We returned in to two souls every soul is trying to forget.. Maybe you forgot me and I'm just a memory for you now But for me you're more than such a memory.. You're the love of my life that I won't find it again.. You're my life, every beautiful memory is with you and only you.. Why did you leave me in the time that I needed you? You've broken me into pieces and I didn't think that you would do that.. You were too much pure to do that."Concluida
Happy tune #Wattys 2017
Never take life too seriously.. Spare a moment for love :) ...Am a dreamer and poetry paints my dreams into words :') .................... And you will be wondering why "HAPPY" cause it's a paradox version of life.Concluida
Bloodyship
A sacred union sealed by the mating of a true born hybrid and the calmest among nature....,. It's a bloody relationship.... " You wanna know how worked up I've been? " He urges, bitting his lip. Without giving me time to answer, he gets too close and I feel my breathing accelerate and his breath on my cheek , making me feel warm and fuzzy at all the right places. I try to open my mouth to say something but he has other plans. He leans in and runs his hands down my arms. " I have been uncomfortably hard these past few days and I can't even fuck my girlfriend without picturing your face " he whispers again,his eyes boring into mine blazing a dangerous shade of red. And for some insane reason , I begin to feel uncomfortably good, light headed and tinglish in my belly. And I don't know why but I like it. So I keep quiet and allow him to continue. " I don't only picture your beautiful face Sey. I imagine how you will feel around me and for some fucked up reason I know you're going to be so goddamn tight " he murmurs so close to my ear that I feel his lips on them, so soft and they begin trailing down my neck. I buckle with a weird sensation and he immediately grabs me by the waist , keeping our bodies flush against each other. " Do you feel that ? " He asks slowing kissing my jaw and I do I feel his hard front rubbing against my body and it feels like I'm going to explode. I make a weird sound at the back of my throat and he growls closing his eyes and his nostrils flaring " Just a taste " he growls staring at my lips and I'm spellbound and my brain feels foggy. But I think he sees it in my eyes , the answer to his not so there question, because immediately he lips brush over mine , just a feather like touch which has my eyes rolling back. I feel his breathing increase and his lips part ready to take mine in , until I'm brought out of the trance by a growling voice " What the fuck are you doing to my girlfriend? "
King Of The Night: The New Servant
It was so cold, I could feel the bits of snow covering my body, as I laid captive in the cold. Sheet of soft, white blankets camouflaged the bushes and trees in the wonderland. The animals and insects were covered in the ice that kept them frozen in place, like puppets on a shelf. There were no flowing stream of water; they were frozen into a misty blue, icy surface. I had no memory of how I got here; I was with my mom and dad eating dinner. On a Friday, we were talking about our day and how we should plan a family vacation. That was it and now I'm in the forest that seems to be frozen in time. I pulled my legs into my chest and dug myself deeper into the winter snow of the ground. Thinking that if I were to burrow, maybe. Just maybe I could keep the heat from leaving my body. I pulled over my hoodie and shrunk my face into the scarf that was covering my mouth. My breathing was deep and long drawn, trying drastically to find warmth; white air came from me to the air of the cold. As the fearful winds pounded me, deeper into the hole and shifted away pieces of the snow that was around me. Slowly, my mind started to drift off. This wasn't good; I tried to keep my eyes from closing into asleep that would have been endless. But there was no use my weak, shivering body fell asleep, before I could even fight. And dreamed. Dreams are something you are battling that your mind plays on you to figure it out. Like a game that ends the way you make it. When you lose you can only blame yourself, and cry for something only you know because it's your mind. Your dream. Your... "Do you want to live". A voice swayed into my dream. "Or do you want me to leave you here". I knew I was dreaming, but am I dreaming in a dream. Is that even possible? Maybe it's just a voice made by my subconscious giving me someone to talk to. I don't want to be alone. So with the strength I had left I uttered, in a voice so quiet it was more of a whisper. "Please help me".Concluida
Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.
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